


Detention, maybe?

by Fallenfae



Series: 12 Ships of Christmas - Warrior cats ! [2]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Again, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Daddy Issues, F/M, Fluff, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Just a little tho, Mommy Issues, breeze smokes, brief mention of nsfw, fluff!, heathertail is a good girl, maybe?? idk, mutual comfort, never lol, not in detail though, uhhh smores, when will i write a non human au christmas fic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27856825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenfae/pseuds/Fallenfae
Summary: Breezepelt decides to show Heathertail how to live freely.
Relationships: Breezepelt/Heathertail (Warriors)
Series: 12 Ships of Christmas - Warrior cats ! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035597
Comments: 12
Kudos: 13





	Detention, maybe?

Everyone likes winter break.

When homework and quizzes are stacked up on you relentlessly by each teacher without a care in the world, and just how _easy_ it was to lose points and how difficult it was to earn them - every student went home happy in December. Everything was wrapped up cleanly - and to be frank, many teachers actually gave the students extra points just to pass - and so no one really missed Lakewood high when they had families to go home to, trees to put up and wishlists to write.

All except the kids with family issues.

Breezepelt never found solitude anywhere. At school, he'd be wishing to just go home and lock himself in his room, ignoring his mum's incessant texts. At home, he'd be wishing to be at school, just to get away from the constant fighting and accusations of cheating from each of his parents. He absolutely despised both places; the only real place he had any solitude was when he snuck out to meet up with his dangerous clique of friends. Well, friends being said lightly.

They smoked, fought like crazy, even got into street trouble with some crazy gang once in year nine. Anything to keep away from home, even if home meant cookies and a comfortable bed and a mother who smothered him in babying encouragement. But Breezepelt had long since realized how much he hated that clique, and since then he'd been more of a wandering loner. No more smoking, (though that took a few weeks to finally quit,) no more fighting, no more sneaking out - at least, not to dangerous places. Nowadays he only snuck out to get a cherry slushie at seven-eleven. 

Safe to say, Breezepelt absolutely dreaded winter break. 

The black-haired mess sat on the bleachers on the side of the school, watching as each of the students - mostly younger kids, leave for school in their nice cars greeted by warm faces. Even Sparkpelt - the absolute most obnoxious and eccentric teacher's pet greeted her dad with a warm hug. It seemed everyone was going to go home tonight and snuggle into their warm blankets to the smell of dinner cooking downstairs and a record playing. Breezepelt envied them.

He dared not move. He knew that if he did, he'd only grow more upset with his condition and start crying. And no, big boys don't cry. They don't cry when their asshole dads leave them behind, they don't cry when their crazy mums prefer seeing them as children instead of teenagers, and they don't cry when everyone they despise is going home happy.

_Maybe I should just stay here,_ Breezepelt thought to himself, fumbling a hand into his jean pocket just to feel the shape of an old unused cigarette. _Maybe then I'll fade out of existence. I doubt anyone'll care._

He lit the cigarette, deciding to fuck it, he needed the dopamine. It didn't matter how he got it. Leaning back into the creaky metal seat, he let his eyes droop and his head fall back, simply watching the wispy, fog-like clouds drift through the faded periwinkle sky. It looked like it would snow soon. He could go home...or he could sit on these same bleachers and let the snow swallow him into the earth. It wouldn't be too bad.

He held the cigar to his mouth then blew out a puff of smoke with a cough. 

"I don't think that's good to indulge in again."

Breezepelt jolted out of his position, only to find that a girl had sat right beside him, much to his surprise. Perhaps it was another girl who wanted a fling with a bad boy who had obvious daddy issues - it wasn't uncommon, but he'd stopped since he realized he was only being used. He couldn't let himself go through more fake love. "Look, if you're here to fuck," he coughed on the smoke, catching his breath quickly, "I don't do that anymore. So take your ass over to someone like Lionblaze or something." 

The girl squinted, a confused look on her face. "No, I was just concerned when I saw a guy who quit smoking weeks ago smoking again all alone while everyone else was going home." She squirmed uncomfortably. Breezepelt narrowed his eyes, tapping the tip of the cigarettes on his knee, putting it out before throwing it under the cracks between each seat beneath him. He eyed her down, maroon scarf and leggings and all, even her neatly curled caramel blonde hair in a ponytail and fringe somehow perfectly framing her face, and the light makeup she wore. None of it rang a bell - she looked a lot like the other popular girl-cheerleader-whatever's in the school - and to be frank Breezepelt never cared about those preppy girls, but what really struck a cord were her eyes. They looked like that soft creamy purple-blue colour that lavender dish soap usually was, and although he found it silly to compare them to _dish soap,_ they did look precisely as such. "Heathertail?"

"Gee, thanks for recognizing me so quickly." She huffed, rolling her eyes. Breezepelt scoffed. "Why would I bother caring for a girl who's the teacher's pet in my _dad's class_?" He leaned back onto the bleachers, crossing his arms. "Hey! It's not my fault I was scheduled into that stinge's class. I don't _like_ him." She fiddled with her sleeve, face heating up in irritation. 

Breezepelt shot her a glance from the corner of his eye, the look on his face clearly saying he didn't care to believe her. "Whatever. Shouldn't you be going home with your daddy and eating your precious christmas cookies about now?" He muffled through the collar of his shirt, which he'd pulled up over his nose to keep warm. (He didn't wear a proper coat - a worn leather jacket, but that didn't provide much warmth.) Heathertail rolled her eyes. "My dad goes home before the bell rings, you dingus. I walk home. And, if you didn't notice, which I doubt you have considering just how far up your ass you are, I hate going home."

"Really?" Breezepelt snorted, raising his eyebrows in amusement. "You hate going up to your huge house to your own private room, doin' whatever the fuck rich girls do in their rooms all day?" He eyed her down, the girl seeming to be quite irritated, fiddling with her fingers. "You realize I'm not rich, right? And that I absolutely hate pretending like I am? _Thats_ the issue you moron, I have to put up this front every minute of my life!" She inhaled sharply, and Breezepelt went to intersect, but the minute he opened his mouth he realized he didn't have much to say. It was the exact opposite of his problem, and the time he'd spent thinking about how to fix his own problems he'd hardly thought of what it'd be like to have an equally extreme problem. Heathertail continued heavily, "Maybe if you looked close enough you'd realize there _are_ people who care about you, and especially people like me, who want to _be_ like you!" She hissed, shooting up onto her feet, done with the tan-skinned mope. 

Breezepelt blinked. " _Be like me?_ " 

" _Yes,_ be like you. Free. To run around wherever the fuck I want instead of being fitted in a pretty little dress and told to watch my mouth and get good grades so I'll be a proper suburban wife one day." She sighed defeatedly. Breezepelt furrowed his brows, confused. He'd always thought having a perfect family would be a good thing, but when Heathertail put it like that…

It took so long for him to gather his thoughts that by the time he did, Heathertail was already halfway down the bleachers and zipping up her coat. 

"Wait--!" He blurted, only to realize what he was about to say was completely stupid, and he was just left to stare into Heathertail's eyes stammering awkward nothings. "I-.." he took a sharp breath. "I'll take you home. You can't walk in this weather."

Heathertail flicked her fringe away from her face. "Sorry, I thought you wouldn't want to hang out with a teacher's pet from your dad's class?" She teased weakly, much to Breezepelt's embarrassment. "Y-yeah well, I'm bored, and you're not _so_ bad." 

Heathertail smiled. "Well that's good to know. You're not too bad yourself."

When Breezepelt and Heathertail had gotten into his car, Breezepelt had realized he didn't feel as lonely as he did most afternoons going home. Heathertail took a minute to write down her address on a scrap piece of paper, and one more minute for Breezepelt to intuitively figure out how exactly to get there. 

Heathertail leaned back into her seat, eyes out the window. She rested on her arm, watching each tree and house and car that passed by - each one growing less dingy and more expensive as they made their way towards Heathertail's house, a distant look on her face, one that drew Breezepelt's attention. He ruffled his hair, a thoughtful expression on his face. His mind wandered back to the bleachers, and what exactly she'd said. "What do you mean 'free'?" He broke the silence.

"What?" Heathertail blinked, shifting her gaze over to Breezepelt without moving her position. "You know," he started, turning back to watch the road. "You said you wanted to be free like me."

Heathertail chuckled lightly, a blush dusting her cheeks. "Well, like...like doing drugs, exploring weird places and...for once get a detention. That'd be cool." She hid her face with her scarf, self aware of just how sheltered she sounded. Breezepelt tried not to chuckle, but the absurdity and different extremes on the spectrum she'd listed, he couldn't help himself. Pathetically stifling a smile, he stopped the car - much to Heathertail's surprise. She straightened her posture, looking around. "Why'd you stop?"

"You said you wanted to be free, right?" Breezepelt grinned, and with the dumb grin on his face Heathertail realized exactly in that moment, she was in deep shit with this idiot. 

_Fuck._

..

"You know how to light a fire?" Heathertail blinked, watching the black haired boy mess with kindle. He'd taken her to an abandoned shack, turning straight around and going the opposite direction of her house. The shack only had two walls up, and the only two left standing were cracked and dry and coated with several metal band posters Breezepelt listened to. Heathertail assumed he came here often, given everything was ready and the stash of food hidden in a chest in the corner of what was left of the room. Breezepelt shuffled a hand into his pocket, pulling out the lighter he'd used on his cigarette earlier that day. "Nope." He grinned.

Heathertail fumbled with her fingers. "What if my mum notices I was gone? She'd be furious." She watches the kindling light up to cast a soft orange glow on the light snow that coated the ground. Breezepelt snorted. "Whats she gonna do? Hit you?"

Heathertail shrugged. "I mean, I guess you're right. She wouldn't do that. But what about the project?"

"What project?" Breezepelt countered, poking the fire with a damp stick. Heathertail dropped her shoulder and let it fall to the snow with a soft crunch before plopping down beside it. She dug through her bag, before pulling out a stapled stack of papers. " _This_ project. The one we have to do during break?"

Breezepelt cocked a brow. "Burn it," he said simply. Taken aback, Heathertail pressed the papers to her chest. "What? No! They're graded!"

"Hey, I've skipped em every year and nothing bad's happened to me yet." Breezepelt shrugged, reaching out to grab the papers. "Burn em! You want freedom? This is the first step."

Heathertail glanced at the stack of papers hesitantly. "But…"

"But nothing. No one acomplishes anything by being a good rule-following pet. Burn it."

Heathertail sighed, before clutching the bundle of papers out in front of the fire, the paper browning and curling at the edges the long she held it over the fire. Once half of the paper was properly burnt, she tossed it in with the rest of the kindling, a delighted expression on her face. "I did it," she wheezed, one hand on her chest and the other hand on Breezepelt's shoulder. "Oh my god I did it."

He nodded. "Sure did." He grunted, crossing his legs in front of him. Heathertail hadn't caught when exactly he'd gotten them, but Breezepelt had two marshmellows on a stick he now cooked over the fire. "Proud of ya. Christmas smore to celebrate?"

"No cookies?" Heathertail blinked. "Or popcorn? Turkey? Nothing?" 

"Does it look like I'm packin' a turkey with me?" He dug through the food box, finding an unwrapped chocolate bar and crackers, smashing them together in somewhat of a quick made smore, and handed it to her. "All I got." 

Heathertail didn't hesitate, taking a bite out of his hand and snuggling up into her jumper. "Gosh, it's getting cold." She hummed through a mouthfull of heaven. Breezepelt shrugged before awkwardly heaving her up and sitting her in his lap. He couldn't really think of a better way to warm her up, and it _was_ a spur of the moment move of teenage horomones. "There."

"That's warm." Heathertail chuckled, eyes lidded. She'd never been so at ease - and Breezepelt had never felt so comfortable with someone else around. He messed with her hair lightly. "Yeah, it is." He agreed.

Breezepelt sat braiding her hair - although it was messily and with much trial and error, and Heathertail let him. He never had the chance to play with anyone's hair really, but he never expected it to be this pleasing. It took a while for Breezepelt to notice Heathertail had fallen asleep, but when he did it was because of her soft snores and limper and limper position as she leaned further against him. 

Well. Now he had two options. Wake her up and take her home, or join her in her nap.

It wasn't hard to choose.


End file.
